Broken Glass
by Tacodestroyeravenger
Summary: It was a freak accident that left them this way. Or was it? Team whumpage. No one is left unscathed.
1. Chapter 1

**Well this is unexpected. I apologize to the people reading my current stories, but this bunny wouldn't leave me alone. And I have a gazillion other leverage stories I've written and well, I figured I'd share a bit since our fandom isn't the biggest. Enjoy!**

Parker slowly opened her eyes, disoriented. Blue and red flashing lights seemed to sporadically appear in her line of vision as she slowly blinked her way into consciousness. A loud ringing in her ears made every other noise a muffled yell. Her vision cleared slightly and the back of a headrest appeared in her line of sight. Well, that wasn't right. The headrest was upside down. No, she was upside down. The ringing was fading and the muffled noises were starting to clear.

"...Parker..." The groan was coming in clearer.

"...ardison?" The croak that came from her mouth was barely even a whisper. That and the seat belt was the only thing keeping her from tumbling down, it holding her uncomfortably in place. Her head was starting to clear as she tried to turn to see the destruction of what was left of the car she was in. What happened? She stopped scanning when she saw Hardison in the seat in front of her and the other teammates missing. He seemed to be in the same predicament as her, upside down in his seat. But there was blood. Trying to get out of her seat, Parker went to move but cried out when the movement pulled at her leg. Gasping and looking down, she could only gape at the odd angle her left leg was sticking out. Definitely broken, she was lucky if she didn't seriously damage her knee. The voices were coming in clearer and Parker just realized through all the chaos that there were other people trying to help them in the wreckage. She could hear the voices trying to be soothing, paramedics, typical reassurance in moments like these. Through her hazy perception, Hardison was already out of the totaled car and on a stretcher. She was the last. Parker struggled at the hands that touched her, but relented when she realized they needed to help for her to escape from this metal cage. She let them move her, not that she held much more protest. Black dots tried to overcome her vision but she had to stay awake. Her mind screamed danger and she hadn't accounted for her team. Parker couldn't hold the loud moan as the paramedics moved her out of the car and onto the stretcher. The adrenaline was wearing off and her leg was screaming. Nausea overwhelmed her and her vision swam. She caught a glimpse of Nate and Sophie both secured in the same ambulance as the doors closed. Hardison was on the stretcher in front of her. Where was the Eliot? Parker's head fell to the side and she saw the last stretcher being loaded into the ambulance, the figure immobile and covered in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey hey hey! I'm alive and here to present the next chapter:) do I know anything medically- no. Do I try to research-yes. Do you likely care as long as I give another chapter- heh we'll see Huh?

Detective Captain Bonanno couldn't believe the day he was having. He wished he could make a law to limit how many laws could be broken in one day. But alas, people were just that stupid. And why was there so much work with so little actual relevance? All of the cases he received were pale in comparison to his former problems. A phone ringing drew him from his thoughts and he lifted his head from his hands, rubbing his temples as if to erase the frustration he held. Glancing over at the phone on his desk, his brow furrowed as he noticed it wasn't that phone that was ringing. Looking down, he reached into his pocket to pull out his personal cell phone. An unknown number flashed on the screen, a strange feeling taking over him. He answered on the third ring.

"Bonanno."

"Listen carefully. I don't have time for questions. They are at the hospital. Take backup with you. Keep them alive. Don't let anyone in or out. They're coming for them. You need to hurry. I'll be there as soon as I..."

A loud crack and a scream cut of the voice. Gunshots blared through the line and the call disconnected.

Oooooooooooooo

Consciousness is such a fickle thing. Who needs it when the black abyss is so welcoming? Life is so much easier to live when behind the scenes, and even easier when oblivious to the fact you are in the dark in the first place. But then there's that nagging. A tiny little buzz that won't leave you alone. Something so small that can ultimately drive every little notion into your brain. It whispers and haunts and makes you consider what is out there in the world of light. It makes you question what you've been missing, or maybe, what you've already forgotten. That voice is what made Nate open his eyes to the hospital he knew he was in. However, it wasn't that voice that made him instantly check for his four familiar faces. The disorientation was thick, and Nate struggled to find any semblance of control over his scrambled brain. He had a hard time remembering anything, but he knew something was wrong. Urgently wrong. He started to move but stopped immediately when his body protested greatly, his shoulder practically screaming at him to never move again. Looking down, his whole left arm was in an orange fluorescent cast, also being supported by a sling. Brow furrowed, Nate laid his head back and let out a deep sigh, not prepared to try to work with only one arm for a while. But wait... What happened to his team? They were all there... What was missing? They did the con and everything was running smoothly until... Nate's stomach dropped. The car wreck. A loud and rapid beating surrounded Nate as he tried to breathe past his sudden panic. Where was his team? We're they even alive?

A nurse burst into the room, intervening and stating calm reassurances as she pulled out an oxygen mask to help with his quickened breath.

"Sir, I need you to calm down."

Nate swatted at the hands that held the mask and tried to voice his question.

"My... Family?"

In another time, he would've blamed his wording on the morphine they clearly had him on, but he could deny it no more than the others could. They were are family now. And Nate needed to know his family was okay.

The nurse cocked her head to the side with a knowing smile. "The other passengers? They are here also sir. Alive from current reports. I can keep you updated if you'd like?"

Nate nodded and leaned his head back in relief, grateful that his team was alive. But... Current reports?

"How... How are they?"

"Well it seems that we only actually have a name for you sir. You are Tom Baker are you not?"

Nate gave the affirmative with a nod, glad he was carrying his alias with him after the con.

"Your friends didn't seem to have any identification on them and we are having a hard time finding any medical records for them. If you could provide us with names that would help a great deal. So to start, we recovered four others from the wreckage with you, am I correct?"

Nate nodded.

"The first we removed, the driver, a Caucasian man with long brown hair..."

"Riker."

"Riker? Ok well we removed Riker first. He is in surgery now. There is not much more I know about his condition, but I'm sure he will be out soon."

Nate gave a small nod, worry churning in his gut.

"We then removed you as you both were on the same side of the vehicle. You have managed to crush nearly your whole left arm and collarbone."

"How about the others?"

"We then removed a dark haired woman from the inside of the vehicle. Her condition was not great at the scene and she was rushed here with you and into surgery. Her condition has yet to be updated as she is still in surgery."

"How bad?"

"She... Had internal bleeding from her liver."

Nate's world stopped. Internal bleeding? Sophie? His whole existence seemed to be in jeopardy of those few words. When looking back up at the nurse, Nate saw the concern in her dark brown eyes. Eyes just like Sophie's. Nate drew in a sudden breath, more of a gasp, and realized he hadn't been breathing before. Coughing from the reflexive action, he brought his eyes back to the nurse. Her light brown skin and dark hair coupled with her big brown eyes made her beautiful. Actually, something in her wide eyes reminded him of Parker... Oh Parker. Nate opened his mouth to speak.

"Sarah is her name. And the others?"

"Well we recovered another young man..."

"Thomas." Nate supplied.

"...with a broken nose and deep lacerations on his right side from the glass. He is also suffering from a mild concussion, which brings me to your last companion."

"Hagan." Now Nate knew he used former aliases, hoping Hardison could fix them up when he could.

"Yes well she suffered from an injury similar to yours, though hers is on her left leg. She also has a mild concussion... Is that all who was with you?"

Nate nodded.

"Ok well I will keep you updated on their condition Mr. Baker. In the meantime, you need to rest and get better yourself." At that, the nurse went to leave the room, but Nate suddenly realized he never got her name.

"Wait! Can I get your name so I know who to ask for?" Nate's words came out all at once.

The nurse smiled, and Nate couldn't help but smile back, reminded of a certain hacker that had a thousand-watt smile like that.

"Lucinda Grey, but everyone just calls me Luci or Grey. Now get some rest Mr. Baker."

Nate tried to take her advice, but he didn't think he would be resting anytime soon. Hardison and Parker seemed to not have serious injuries, and Nate was thankful for that, but they were still out of commission and hurting. This twisted something in his gut just thinking about the two youngest members of his team in pain. Then there was Sophie and Eliot. Sophie had internal bleeding and Eliot's condition was in the air. Nate's blood was like ice, each dagger piercing him from the inside out. He couldn't do this. He ran the risk of losing two of his team. Nate let his head fall back as the agony of the unknown rested upon his mind and heart. What he wouldn't give for a drink.


	3. Chapter 3

-the day before the incident-

Nate walked through his apartment door, preparing himself for the tongue lashing he was sure to get. He could hear the discussions of his team from the hallway, the bickering in escalation between his hacker and hitter.

"I didn't say that! I said..." The low growl of the hitter sounded different, exhausted and definitely angry.

"Yeah I heard what you said Eliot! You think I don't know what could've happened! I didn't know that those guys knew you and that they'd go after Parker! I didn't know man!" Now the hacker sounded like he was on a sugar rush and couldn't come down.

"We know that Hardison, I think the last con shook us all up a bit, right Parker?" And there was his grifter to try and ease a calm between the bickering boys.

"Yeah! And I got to punch someone and steal a really big diamond so I thought it was fun!" Of course Parker would consider it a win.

"Except for the part where you were surrounded by ten armed men." Eliot growled out, still fuming over the last con.

"Well yeah, obviously."

"They hit you Parker."

"Yeah? So? You hit them back harder. And I tasered them."

"After they got a few good shots in! You know what? Never mind. I need to take a look at your knee again though."

Nate entered at that point and tried to ignore the sight of Eliot bending and inspecting Parker's knee. The last con was harder than usual and the the team was worn afterwards. It didn't help that Nate called in a meeting today, but they didn't understand. Nate couldn't not be on a job today. Not today. It was the anniversary of Sam's death. He had to have his mind occupied. He already went to the gravesite and paid his respects, doused his liver in alcohol, met with the client, and called the team in. Going straight towards his alcohol stash, he grabbed a bottle and glass and tried to drown out the almost silence that followed him everywhere. Luckily, that's what his team was for.

"It's fine! Why are we doing this? It doesn't even hurt that much!" Parker wined.

"I saw the fall you took on the con, Parker, and you limping afterwards. This is just me checking your injury and it would go faster if you'd stop squirmin!"

"But Eliooooooooot! It doesn't even count cause I fell on you! You cushioned my fall!"

"Yeah well I apparently wasn't enough cushion for ya darlin. You still twisted your knee on impact."

"Well it's not my fault! The striped horses would have got me!"

"Zebras Parker. They're called zebras."

Eliot sighed as he wrapped Parker's knee with an ace bandage, his movements slower than normal. Nate studied the hitter for a moment, taking in how he favored his left side, though desperately trying to hide it. The left side of his face was a mass assortment of bruises all in various stages of healing. Maybe Nate pushed this to fast, set the bar too quickly, but he thought the last job was going to carry through longer. Since it didn't, he had to find another quickly so he didn't have time to think about the date. Downing his drink, he walked towards the group, noticing Hardison's uncharacteristic silence. Gazing at the young man, he saw the bloodshot eyes that spoke of a day or two of sleepless nights. That and the empty two liter of orange soda beside his laptop that he was typing away on. The man hardly even seemed present at the moment, only jumping in occasionally to bicker and fight with Eliot. Then Nate turned to the last one of his team, who he feared most. Sophie's eyes found his, and he was sure if it was possible to kill with just a look, he would be five foot under by now. Though taking into account how his team appeared, he couldn't blame her for her frustration. A pang of guilt hit him when he looked at his exhausted team. Even the elegant and beautiful grifter had dark circles under her eyes. Parker had a yellowing bruise on her cheekbone and scrapes on her arms from her thieving stunts the day before. Nate already concluded Eliot was hurt by the way he moved, unnoticeably different for people who didn't know him, but the mastermind could tell. Not that the hitter would tell what was wrong, not that it mattered either. Nate would rather not know what happens to the hitter, as long as he knows his limits. He can't handle that knowledge right now, feeling that emotional pain like he did those times Sam fell and scraped his knees or the times... Nate shook his head hard. Standing off to the side of the group, he cleared his throat and began.

"Hardison. Run it."

A small nod and a barely stifled yawn was his response. Nate glanced over at the hacker and knew he had rushed this one. Hardison hadn't even complained to him yet, signifying the amount of exhaustion he must be experiencing. Rubbing his eyes, the hacker tapped a few buttons and pulled up the newly acquired information. He cleared his throat before revealing his findings.

"Vladimir Balagula. Said to be part of the Russian mafia. Any information on this guy is scarce at best. He actually hardly has a record at all. Clean as a whistle except for a few parking tickets, though those are probably there to not raise suspicion."

"Is there anything you can give on this guy?" Nate sighed.

"Well our client claims he is responsible for the disappearances of teens from her shelter. Said that they slowly started to go missing, a new one gone every month." Hardison supplied, filled in on Nate's information from that morning.

"What does he want with teenagers?" Sophie asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Well that's what I've yet to figure out." Hardison exhaled as he rubbed his forehead.

"Where's he taking them?" The deep rumble of Eliot's voice raised the hacker's head.

"You think if I knew that I would still be standing here?"

"Hardison." Nate scolded.

"Yeah yeah. It's just the caffeine talkin."

"Do you know anything else?" Nate questioned, already feeling that the day was going to get worse. Especially since he noticed that Parker had gone silent since the briefing started. Glancing over at her, he saw the strain on her face when she was trying to deal with emotions but couldn't figure out how. Sighing, he realized why. Teenagers from shelters going missing.

"Well now that you ask, no. I just got done cleaning up the paper trail from the last con and you were lucky you got this much. I'll look into it some more but this is all I got right now."

Nate snapped out of his inner monologue at Hardison's voice. And there was the complaining. Looking at his team, the mastermind decided that after this con they would take a break. But for now, he had to occupy himself today and figure everything else out later. There wasn't much information to work with, but Nate needed something going on and he couldn't wait that long. He had to act on something. He turned to face the team.

"Ok. Let's go steal the next generation."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok guys, sorry for the wait, life happened. I'm not happy with this chapter, as I think it's short and disappointing but I've held it hostage too long so... Also want to thank everyone because this story got way more attention than I thought it would.**

-minutes before the incident-

The large expansion of trees in the outskirts of the city swayed lightly in the breeze, a small warning of the storm to come other than the foreboding darkening of the sky. A peaceful silence had started to befall the area, but the tranquilness of nature was interrupted by the sound of an approaching car engine in the distance. The four door, 1972 Dodge Coronet turned sharply around the curve of the road, tires squealing as the muscle car strained under the stress of the chase. The setting sun glinted off the windshield and gleamed on the black hood of the car, the engine roaring as the vehicle was pushed to higher speeds. The occupants were also stressed as the driver shifted gears yet again, trying not to yell at the panicked passengers of the vehicle while he kept his eyes on the approaching number of cars behind them.

"How are we going to get out of this?! There are people with guns and they want us dead! Not to mention they are the Russian Mafia!" Hardison was hyperventilating in the passenger seat, right hand holding the dashboard while he twisted to talk to Nate in the backseat. The mastermind was holding his head in his hands, fingers threading through his hair as he tried to formulate a plan.

"Don't forget that this is their car too. And I might have set fire to Balagula's self portrait..." Parker cut in as she reached into her jacket pockets, trailing off for a second. Her fingers fumbled around and she removed them to assess her goodies. She chewed on her lip in concentration as she added her last point, "and I don't think he appreciated Eliot punching him in the face when he got too handsy with Sophie. That and taking down his other guards on the way out. I think that last guy will be in traction for a loooooong time." Parker smiled at the thought, a little too happy for the events that went down and were still occurring. A few bullets ricocheted off the back of the car, bringing the thief back to the current predicament, and she squirmed in her seat until she was turned around and facing the cars behind them. A clicking noise assured her deed was accomplished and she brought her left hand up and quickly put it out the window, throwing the object in her hand at the cars behind them. An explosion rewarded her success and there was one less vehicle following the old dodge as it tore it's way down the road.

"And I stole a grenade."

A loud curse from the driver's seat followed a slight swerve of the wheel as the explosion shocked Eliot. "Parker! You don't just..." Bullets shattering the rear view mirror on the driver's side silenced the hitter's rant.

Hardison made a gasping and high pitched squeal in surprise, eyes wide as he saw Parker turn back around in her seat, a happy grin plastered on her face as she still held the pin lovingly. Half of the hacker's face was hidden behind the headrest as he hunched down in the seat, cowering just in time as the hail-fire of bullets returned full force, making the team duck down instinctively with the hacker. Eliot growled at the sight of the team hunched down and he pushed the old dodge faster, trying to avoid the bullets. The back window shattered as the bullets finally found their target, glass shattering and covering the three in the back. Sophie gasped as she felt the shards fall over her, though she also felt Nate holding on to her, trying to shield the grifter from harm. She was in the middle of the backseat, squished between Parker and Nate as they all tried to avoid the bullets.

"You wouldn't happen to have another grenade would you?" Nate shouted over Sophie to Parker in the backseat. The gunfire wouldn't stop and there was little hope of it ceasing anytime soon. The car swerved a bit and a muffled curse was heard from the front seat. Sophie glanced up but saw nothing concerning, so she went to put her head back down. That was, until she saw a spreading redness on the sleeve of Eliot's shirt. She was about to comment, but one of the remaining cars pulled up beside them and let loose chaos before she could even inhale. The huge car rammed into the old dodge and Eliot fought for control of the wheel, tires screeching under the stress of the other car's weight. The huge car tried to push the vehicle off the road again, and Eliot knew he was going to lose the battle soon.

"Seatbelts?!"

He barely got the words out and heard the responding clicks when the huge car rammed them off the road. The dodge turned sideways from the hit and flipped off the road. It turned once more as it finally landed upside down in the ditch. Silence followed, from the outside and inside of the car. The passengers were stunned from the impact, three unconscious, the other two dazed. The shock was enough to provide and support the silence, the only sound to penetrate the noiseless trauma being the screeching of the tires of the cars that orchestrated their demise. But even they faded in the distance as they receded, returning the silence to the forest. Though this time, it carried no peaceful swaying of the trees or the content feeling of nature, it's purpose changing and only highlighting the rumbling of the sky that proved the storm was closer than before.


	5. Chapter 5

-day before incident-one hour after debrief-

"Ok. How's everyone looking?"

Eliot refrained from grimacing at the slight slur in the mastermind's voice, knowing that the man was close to reaching his limit. He would mention it if Nate went overboard, but so far the plan wasn't threatening to the team. Surveillance and set up were the first parts to be executed and things were running surprisingly smoothly. Sophie had weaved her web of lies and was already set to meet Balagula in the course of minutes. Parker was perched on the roof of a nearby building, gathering Intel and surveying the layout of the warehouse that supposedly housed the main operations. Nate and Hardison were in Lucille, the later gathering more information on the Russian mafia and Balagula. Who knew what Nate was doing, if he was doing anything at all except coming up with the plan that Eliot hoped wasn't life threatening to a member of the team. The hitter shifted on his feet, again trying to hide a grimace, though for a completely different reason. The last con didn't do him any favors and he was sure he had multiple cracked ribs, though he was thankful they weren't broken. That's what he gets though, being suckered into the con on a cruel zoo manager from just a bat of Parker's large puppy eyes. Not that he would refuse, he just knew that zoo managers that treated the animals cruelly wasn't going to be good for him. Especially since his roles typically were the hands on experiences and he wasn't too fond of being in the lion's den with a very hungry lion.

Sophie's fake laugh snapped Eliot from his thoughts and he reflexively straightened his stance, though it made his torso scream in agony. His typical role as a bodyguard was a relief from the grifting experience he had to pull off only hours before on the last con. Starving animals he'd take any day over his other part he had to play as an undercover animal rights activist. Having to fake interest in the corrupt local government that his persona became involved with was exhausting and in its own way painful. It wasn't that he couldn't grift when he needed to, it's just that grifting wasn't his...thing. He didn't specialize in grifting, preferring to punch the answers out of people than spend hours coaxing it out of them. This was one of those roles where he didn't have to say much, his air of intimidation stating his reasons and purpose for being by Sophie.

Eliot shadowed her steps as she was lead by a goon further into the warehouse, scanning the area and finding many crates of what he assumed to be filled with something illegal. Ammunition, drugs, money, or anything else of the sort were bouncing in his thoughts for top contender. It would be something worth fighting and killing for by the look of the place. There were armed men around every corner, their handguns not visible by someone who didn't suspect it. But Eliot was no fool, his expertise in spotting and eliminating men like this a valuable asset when protecting his team. By how smoothly things were running, he felt no reason to be worried by how outnumbered they were. However, it was the fact that everything was painfully easy so far that made him on guard. Nothing had ever gone this smoothly, especially when pitted against the Russian mafia. The hairs on the back of Eliot's neck were on end, his body tense for a fight even though he kept the mostly relaxed outward appearance.

Sophie stopped when they reached the middle of the warehouse and the goon that was previously laughing and falling for Sophie's fake charm suddenly turned on them, gun pointed straight at the grifter's head. Eliot moved on instinct, one hand coming up to push the gun upward as the other moved Sophie behind him. The hitter twisted the goon's wrist in the same move, the gun falling out to land perfectly in his own hand. The man's cry of pain was cut short as he found himself suddenly staring down the barrel of his own gun. There was a brief moment of silence as the room comprehended what happened in the matter of seconds. Then nearly a dozen guns were out and pointed at the hitter and grifter.

Sophie composed herself from the shock of the moment and slipped back into her Annie Croy mode. She didn't expect this specifically to happen, and very certainly didn't expect Eliot to point a gun at the man's head instead of disarming it like he usually did. But this was a role, and it would be odd for her bodyguard to not take advantage of the moment to have a temporary hostage and send the visible threat that he knew how to use the weapon he now held.

The goon stared stupefied at how he was beaten but mostly not afraid because of the numbers he had on his side. However, Eliot's cold gaze bore into his very soul, a low growl erupting from the hitter's chest at the thought that this witless goof pulled a gun on Sophie.

"There is already trouble here?"

Balagula stepped out from behind a crate, smirk in place as he took in the scene. Sophie immediately narrowed her eyes at his arrival, anger swirling around her in waves as she took in the Russian. He had spiky blonde hair and a thick Russian-American accent, fairly tall and imposing though his looks made him appear as if he were a movie star.

"Ah Ms. Croy is it? What seems to be the problem?"

There was a split second of silence of Sophie's venomous glare directed at the handsome mobster. The gaze only broke when the grifter slowly put her hand on Eliot's arm to lower it and make significant eye contact with him. She let her words slide past her lips in the dangerous and seductive way that could only be compared to the beauty an insect would see in a spider's web, not realizing the death that it gifted.

"Aaron, give the man back his gun. Now you," Sophie turned from Eliot-or as the con had it-Aaron Fasano, and addressed Balagula. "You treat all business deals this way?" The grifter paused, lazily bringing her eyes about the room if bored with her near death experience. "No I suppose not. So what _is_ the matter, Vladimir?"

The slow but low tones the grifter presented made certain that she owned the conversation, demanded and expected the attention of her audience. Sophie was angry and shocked, but she hid it under the veil of an icy calm, implying underlying and hostile emotions. The deadly air she gave made the attention of the room shift to her, though the actual threat was still Eliot with the gun he had previously pointed at the henchman.

"You are right. I do not start my deals this way, but you have not exactly given me a choice, have you?"

Balagula stepped closer towards them, his right hand fiddling with the watch under his left suit sleeve. His smile, deceptively welcoming, grew on his face as he spoke.

"You have not told me the truth Ms. Croy. I have a cousin by the name of Nicolas Obrovic, who can attest to that."

Sorry:/ I've neglected my stories and I apologize. However I will have to be dead to completely stop and this one was the one screaming at me most to update so... I will try to spout out updates on my other stories too.

now for fun facts: Vladamir Balagula is named after an actual former Russian mobster by the name of Marat Balagula. Eliot's alias of Aaron Fasano is also a reference to Robert Fasano, a business associate of Balagula's that wore a wire for the U.S. Secret service and ultimately started the downfall of Balagula. Also, the last line is super significant and will be explained:)


	6. Chapter 6

-8 hours after incident-

Lucinda Grey had not had a great week. It didn't help that on top of her car having transmission issues, her cat dying of cancer, and discovering she was allergic to peanuts, that she got to work to help with car crash victims. After dealing with the chaos of that, she eventually took her break and collapsed into the nearest chair. She put her face in her hands, rubbing her temples. She just started to relax when a loud noise startled her into looking up. A flash of movement, too quick for her tired mind, revealed two blurs that violently erupted out of a patient's room. When her eyes adjusted and her brain caught up, Luci saw a large man held up against the wall of the hallway by a patient who was growling in the man's face and pressing his forearm against the enemy's broad chest.

She got up, recognizing the patient to be one of the car crash victims that she helped earlier. The man should have been rendered useless with how much medication that was still in his system. He'd barely had time to be out of surgery.

She slowly approached, not wanting to make things worse by a startling interference. The patient, Riker, she recalled, was speaking in a low-though slightly slurred-very menacing tone to the man he had pinned to the wall.

"...and you let him know that if anything happens to them, if they so much as breathe different, I'm coming for him. This is your only warning. Go!"

Riker pushed the man away, making him stumble with wide eyes as he scrambled away from the imposing shorter man. It was almost comical, since the thug was much larger than the patient, yet terrified of the man.

Lucinda breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that was until she saw the bright crimson dripping on the floor.

"Where are they?"

Her eyes drew back up to the patient's face, his determined scowl bringing her back to the moment. Oh how adrenaline could do wonders for the body.

"W-who?"

Her incredulous response made Riker growl and start determinedly toward her, but he stumbled and had to catch himself on the wall. His hand slid down the standard beige paint of the halls, leaving a bloody stain as his legs started to give out.

"You-I-wait a second."

Luci spluttered and tried to draw in a breath as she moved closer to the irate man capable of violence.

"What's going on here?"

The new voice scared her and she jumped and turned to see a man approaching, holding a gun and tensed as if ready for her to attack.

"Bonnano."

Luci wanted to cringe at the gravel-low voice that ripped it's way out of Riker's throat. It sounded completely different from what she heard earlier when he threatened the man. And wasn't that something? She didn't often have such aggressive acts of violence in her halls, though when they did happen it was conveniently when she wasn't around. Oh well, there is a first for everything when employed in the medical field. Inhaling deeply, she stared between the patient she found herself right next to and the stranger, Bonnano, that showed up with a gun.

"You know each other?"

"Unfortunately. I'm not even going to ask what you did this time."

He addressed Riker in a sarcastic tone and grinned when he said this, making her feel a little concerned. However, there was a knowing tightness in his voice like he knew something like this was going to happen-a worry that came from being pulled into something you couldn't handle.

A rough chuckle was followed by a painful cough that sounded wrong to her ears. Luci looked over at her patient and saw the red that originated on the left side of Riker's hospital gown. She reached for the cloth to look at the wound, bravely swatting away the still questionable patient's hands that tried to weakly stop her. As if modesty mattered in a hospital.

"I'm a nurse, let me look at it."

Bonnano snorted as if he heard a good joke, though concern furrowed his brow as he approached them. Luci didn't care because her words worked as Riker quit fighting if for the moment.

The nurse uncovered the wound, hissing in time with the man as she got a look at the torn stitches.

"Mind telling me what's got you being attacked by people in my hospital? Not that I need to know, but that was more than a 'you slept with my wife' grudge, and well..."

Of course it was time to start rambling. She blamed her nerves and the long hours she had been awake. She wasn't equipped for something like this! She handled medical emergencies, not crimes in the making! Maybe she couldn't handle this like she thought.

"It wont be a problem," Bonnano said as he knelt next to her and she brought out her pager to notify any available Doctor of the situation. Somehow she felt he was lying.

"Good. You a fed?" She tried to be nonchalant-tried to wrap her mind around these strange events that sucked her into without her permission.

"You could say that."

A badge flashed and she felt a small rush of relief.

"Good. Lord knows we need some authority in this place."

Another chuckle came from Riker, and she was dismayed to see a trickle of blood start to flow down the corner of the man's mouth. His eyes however, they were fierce and blazing and electric but also worried and sad and just...tired. She felt this chill run through her, one that wasn't caused by fear or arousal or anything that would entice such a strong physical emotion. No it wasn't the fact that this man did indeed frighten her a little, nor the fact he was indeed physically appealing-though that did mean little to her asexual being-no it was not these things. It was not the cold air of the hospital, the adrenaline of a possible crime, the feeling of constant danger, the thought of an elaborate plot of these men to seize her off and never return...

No.

Lucinda Gray shivered because when she looked into this man's eyes, she saw the pure and desperate need he had to protect something greater than himself...and she knew it would destroy him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

ok ok sorry for the wait. Someone reviewed or followed or favorited this or whatever and it made me get my butt into gear. So literally, reviews help a ton. And sorry about the Oc but I found her necessary.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi:) I'm alive! Insert personal problems that have delayed my writingXD Anywho hope this sorta-filler chapter satisfies! So this may answer some questions or it may give you more;) who knows? Ps. Continuity is a pain:1**

-Somewhere in Mexico-6 hours after incident-

Quinn stepped over the whimpering men, pushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. He tucked the two guns he "acquired" off the thugs into the band of his jeans, putting a new clip into the one he was already holding. A forlorn glance at his destroyed burner phone made him hope that the Boston cop got his message. He was lucky that Spencer had a sense of foresight for potential danger, and it only grew when Ford honed that ability. It was what hitter/retrieval specialist/assassins do-make a backup plan. Somehow though, Quinn didn't expect himself to be called so soon-much less it be because a car accident caused by the Russian mob put the Leverage crew in a vulnerable spot.

"Hey!" A voice cut his thoughts off as he fired a shot at the idiot that came around the corner and announced his presence to him. The man didn't even try to shoot him. It was actually insulting how useless the security was for this place.

Quinn approached and stepped over the body, turning the corner and entering a nearby room that held his target.

Bright brown eyes caught his and muffled sobbing quieted as the woman stilled at the sight of him. Holding his gun in a loose and placating way, he started towards her with a slow and non-threatening walk.

"My name is Quinn. Your father sent me to rescue you." He thought through what words to say, knowing 'sent' was better than 'paid' and 'rescue' than 'retrieve'. Experience taught him that hostages tended to react better to sympathetic heroes than mercenaries.

He had to say that he really couldn't blame them.

Shaking off a potential flashback, Quinn knelt in front of the woman and eased the tape off her mouth.

"¿Mi padre?" She whispered with a hoarse voice, then corrected herself to fit her savior's natural tongue instead of her own. "My father?"

"Yes. Let me just come around to undo the rope and we can get you out of here and back home." Quinn softly assured her, more impatient to leave and take care of the next thing on his to-do list.

"Está sangrando."

"What?" He asked lazily, not quite hearing what she said.

"You are bleeding." She responded with wide eyes and he followed her gaze to a crimson stain on his pants.

"Great." Quinn mumbled, throwing a quick glance at his left leg as he finished untying the captive woman.

She immediately tried to stand, shaking on legs that could barely hold her from inactivity for too long.

He hoped the adrenaline rush he was currently experiencing would stay long enough to get them out of here.

"¿Estás bien?" Quinn looked up to worried eyes. Really if he took a moment, he could appreciate how beautiful the woman was with her soft tan skin and dark black hair that frizzed away from her face.

But this was not the time.

"I'm fine. It's just a graze." He lied. Well he didn't actually lie but the graze was a bit more serious than a bandaid could help. However, civilians-much less hostages-freak out easily so he tried to put it in terms that would give him the most compliant and calm tag-along for this scenario.

It was still pathetic how horrible the security was for the building. He got in and out with the woman in under ten minutes with only a slightly serious bullet graze as total damage.

An hour later, he returned the woman home to her family and accepted half the agreed upon money (because he maybe bad but he's not completely heartless). That and kidnapping cases were a softspot for him-not that he'd ever admit it.

Thirty minutes and fifteen homemade stitches later, he was ready to call in some favors for his favor.

"Hey, Mikel. You want a job?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Ugh I'm so sorry I am horrible at updating. Take this as a belated Christmas gift;)**

-the night before incident-a few hours after meeting Balagula-

"Nicolas Obrovic! How did you miss that, Hardison?" Sophie whispered as she stared at the wall in front of her and tried not to think about the rope that bit into her wrists painfully. Listening to Eliot curse the hacker while he struggled against his own bonds was only slightly helping her mood. The hitter had been ruffed up a bit before they were settled in this room-where they've been for the past three hours.

"Hey, now how was I supposed to know our dear Vlad was the-and may I remind you again- step-cousin twice removed of the mark Parker shish-kabobed a few years back? I mean, a step-cou..."

A low growl cut off Hardison's rant as Eliot tried to break the ropes around his wrists with pure force. Success was not forthcoming it seemed as the hitter quit the idea with a huff.

"Did you really think that would work?" A disembodied voice asked with pure curiosity. Parker dropped down from the ceiling vent, head tilted as she studied them.

Eliot huffed as she approached with a pocket knife, "Brazil, 1996," and leaned forward so the thief could cut their bonds. Hardison scoffed.

A sudden sound from the hallway made the blonde savior disappear from sight, just in time for the door to open and Vladimir to waltz through with his two typical henchmen. The Russian stared at them as if they were merely mice to play with.

"So where are they? Your associates? Nicolas could only tell me about the blonde, but Irina, now she told me everything."

Sophie blinked, a mask of unamused indifference schooling her features into giving away nothing.

Balagula smiled, tisking as he knelt in front of the grifter.

"Now now, don't be that way, my kitten," the Russian spoke, his hand finding its way onto Sophie's leg and eyes locking on hers with a false sincerity, "You tell me what I need to know and I'll make your stay here...more comfortable."

Eliot stiffened when he heard this, catching the handsy move Vlad was doing out of the corner of his eye. Hardison made a gagging noise at the mobster's implication which was soon quieted by Nate. The mastermind was deathly silent, barely speaking since the two were discovered. Nate listened to every word to catch any detail he could.

"Touch her and you deal with me." The mastermind smirked at Eliot's response.

"Oh really? Is that so? What was it again? Fasano?" Balagula leered at the hitter as he monologued. "Or would you prefer Aaron? I'm flexible. I like to make things personal between clients and myself."

Vlad stood and moved in front of the hitter, eyes burning with a curious ferocity.

"But let's not dance around this much longer. You are conmen, so Aaron Fasano is not likely to come up in my circles. Now Annie Croy is a name I've heard, and it has some merit too, but so is a Ms. Devereaux." Vladimir smirk as he tilted his head, eyes boring into the back of the grifter's head.

Simultaneous curses came through the earbuds. Nate immediately started barking out orders and relaying a plan.

Eliot blinked, keeping a calm exterior as the Russian monologued. Really he was lucky the man was arrogant enough to boast his success, otherwise Eliot would have a hard time covering the sounds of a pocketknife against rope. A flash of blonde from the hallway-and he wasn't sure how the thief even got there-was enough signal he needed and with a mighty tug, the hitter finished breaking his bonds and lunged at the Russian. He socked him in the face, angry that the man was unconscious in one blow. The two henchmen immediately aimed their guns to fire but was down with a jab to the neck from Parker's taser.

Sophie let out a relieved sigh, dropping a little of her fearless façade. She then lifted her head upwards in confusion, sniffing the air.

"Is that...smoke?"

Eliot got up with a grimace, touching ribs that he was sure were broken. He shot an accusatory glare in Parker's direction and tried to ignore the suspicious sight of a bulge in her jacket pocket...for now.

"What?" The thief asked with an innocent face.

"Parker, what did you do?" Sophie asked softly as Eliot cut her ropes.

"Nate said we needed a distraction," was the straight-faced response the grifter got.

"We're gonna talk about this later." Eliot grumbled to the thief as he moved around her to check the doorway.

"Hardison?"

"There's five guards between you and the southeast exit. Should take you out by the garage-" Gunshots drowned out the voice of the hacker and Eliot tensed.

"Hardison?" Parker and Eliot chorused as Sophie said, "Nate?"

Heavy breathing came through the three thieves earbuds before the mastermind finally spoke up.

"Plan G. Lucille is compromised. We will meet you at the garage. Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"How fast can you hotwire a car?

The thief smirked.


End file.
